


A Hurricane of Butterflies

by still_lycoris



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Butterfly Effect, M/M, Restraints, Season/Series 02, Spoilers, Time Travel, emotional distress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:41:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake is so close to finding Control. So close to bringing the Federation to its knees. At least until Avon begs him not to return to Earth. Because Avon knows something Blake does not.</p><p>Avon has seen the future ... and now Blake must decide if he believes him. And if he does believe him, what should he do now?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hurricane of Butterflies

Blake woke very suddenly, faintly conscious that he had been having some sort of unpleasant dream. He sat up, rubbing his face and trying not to sigh. He’d had a lot of nightmares in his life. Even when he’d been the Federation’s “model citizen”, his dreams had been plagued with things that he hadn’t understood; death and blood and fear that tried to fade into nothingness when he was awake. At least now he understood his nightmares. At least now they had some sort of _meaning_.

And he would make them all worthwhile in the end. When they found Control …

Orac said he was close. Just thinking about it started the burning flame inside him again. They would destroy Control and with it, they would destroy the Federation. Blake would _win_.

He dressed, humming to himself as he did. You had to cling to it, the hope and the knowledge of what you were going to do. What you were going to do right, what you were going to change. It was the way to stay alive, the way to keep hoping.

He headed to the room that they had all vaguely dubbed the kitchen, although it wasn’t quite like any of the kitchens Blake had inhabited on Earth. It was pleasant enough though, like all of the _Liberator_. Comfortable chairs, a vague feeling of warmth. Blake liked it.

Jenna and Vila were already there, Vila nursing a mug of the tea that he favoured for the morning, Jenna trying to make a different mixture of food concentrates for her breakfast. Blake smiled at them both.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on watch, Vila?”

“Zen and Orac are monitoring while I get tea,” Vila said, giving Blake that big-eyed stare he sometimes produced when he thought Blake might be about to get at him. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“All right,” Blake said. They were very far away from anything anyway, assuming they hadn’t changed course. Zen was quite capable of warning them of danger, he just … preferred the human touch. Sometimes, it was better to bend a little though. 

Cally walked in as he was sorting out his own breakfast. She smiled at him in a slightly cold way – Blake knew she was still cross with him for refusing to listen to her when she’d said they all needed rest. Couldn’t she see they _couldn’t_ rest? Couldn’t she see that a rest would be more dangerous than anything? If they relaxed their guard …

He didn’t say any of this. He just continued to make his breakfast and offered her the use of one of the machines when she needed it.

“So where are we going today?” Jenna asked, trying her new concoction and pulling a face. “Or are we still coasting?”

“Coasting, I think,” Blake said, feeling his little thrill of pleasure again. Orac was close, _he_ was close, they wouldn’t be coasting for long, oh no …

“Coasting is not resting,” Cally muttered.

Blake was about to begin arguing with her again when Avon entered the room and all thoughts of any other conversation flew out of his head.

It was immediately clear that something was terribly wrong. Avon’s eyes were wide, almost bewildered. His clothes were dishevelled, as though he’d scrambled into them without thought. He hadn’t combed his hair or done any of the grooming that Blake was accustomed to seeing. He was standing in the doorway as though he had no real idea of where he was.

“Avon, are you all right?” Cally asked.

Avon’s head snapped towards her. Her made a strange sound in his throat a took a stumbling step towards her. He hadn’t put any boots on, his feet white and bare on the floor.

“Cally?” he whispered. “ _Cally_.”

“Avon, what’s the matter? Are you sick?” 

Cally reached his side in a moment and Avon clutched at her, one hand clamping around her arm the other coming up to snatch at a handful of her hair. Cally froze, her expression almost frightened and Blake wondered just how hard Avon was gripping her. Avon was staring with those wide, wide eyes, swaying slightly. He looked almost like he was going to kiss her.

“Not dead,” he whispered. “You’re not dead.”

“Of course I’m not dead, Avon!”

“Not dead,” Avon mumbled, as though he hadn’t heard. “Not dead and _here_ , we’re both _here_ and Jenna, Jenna you’re here too and Vila, Vila … ”

Vila was backing away, his face very pale. Blake couldn’t blame him. Avon made a sound of distress. His hand twisted in Cally’s hair and she gave a little gasp of pain.

“Avon, what is the matter with you?” Blake demanded, deciding this had gone far enough. “You’re hurting – ”

He didn’t get any further. Avon whipped around to face him, his eyes widening in his face. He released Cally, who immediately moved away, rubbing her arm.

“Blake?” Avon whispered and then his voice raised into a shriek. “ _Blake_. You’re not dead, not dead, oh God, you’re not dead, I didn’t, it didn’t happen, you’re here on _Liberator_ , we’re all here … ”

“What’s going on?” Gan had just arrived and was looking very confused. Avon twisted wildly round and stared at him.

“ _You_ ,” he whispered, then looked at Blake again. “What’s the date? _Tell me the date!_ ”

Jenna spoke up, offering the date with a quiet sort of calmness that Blake was glad to hear from someone. He felt as though everything was spinning out of control. What the hell was happening? He could see Vila pressed against the wall now, face white with fright and Cally standing away too, hand on her arm. Avon was swaying, muttering the date over and over, his eyes wide and unseeing.

“No,” he said with sudden fervour. “No, no, Blake, Blake, you’re wrong, you mustn’t, you mustn’t take us to Control, it’s not there, it’s not on Earth, it’s on Star One, it’s a trick, you mustn’t, _you mustn’t!_ ”

He lunged at Blake, clutched his arms with grasping, desperate fingers. Blake stared at him, aware that his mouth was open with shock. How the hell had Avon known? _How the hell had he known?_

“Avon, what the hell are you talking about?!” Vila’s voice was a wail. “Have you gone mad?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Avon jerked violently, his body seeming to convulse. He shook his head wildly, moving back from Blake again.

“No! No, I’m not mad! _I’m not mad!_ You have to listen to me, you have to, you have to, I’m not mad, I’m not mad, _I’m not mad!_ ”

He _looked_ mad. He looked terrifyingly mad, his face bleached white, mouth wide and eyes practically popping. He was shaking from head to foot, chanting it over and over, as though saying it made it true.

“I’m not mad, I’m not, I don’t know what happened, I don’t, it just, it just happened, I was dying and then I was waking up here, it didn’t happen, we can change it, oh please, please let me change it, I’m not mad, please, please … ”

Blake stepped forward and took Avon by the arms, trying not to grip too hard, trying to make Avon focus on him.

“All _right_ ,” he said, loud and calm as he could. “You’re not mad, Avon!”

Avon stared at him, his face seeming to relax slightly. He swayed and suddenly slumped against Blake, clutching at his shirt, pressing his face against Blake’s shoulder. Blake shot a look at Jenna who quietly sidled to where the First Aid kit sat. Blake rubbed Avon’s back as reassuringly as he could.

“It’s all right, Avon. It’s all right, you’re quite safe, we’re all quite safe.”

“Don’t patronise me,” Avon whispered but there was no venom in his voice, none of his usual acidity. “Oh Blake, Blake, please, I’m not mad, you have to listen, you have to, I can’t, I can’t let it happen again!”

“Let _what_ happen again? Avon, you have to explain, I can’t do anything unless you explain.”

Avon lifted his head, staring at Blake. His eyes were still wide, still haunted with nameless terror. He continued to clutch at Blake’s shirt, holding them close together. Jenna was quietly moving towards him from behind, tranquilizer pad in her hand. Blake reached up, cupped Avon’s face in one hand, trying to keep his attention fixed on him. It was strange, touching Avon like this. The only times they’d ever been tactile had been in moments of real danger. But now wasn’t the time to think about anything except keeping Avon calm.

“Explain to me,” he said softly, reassuringly. “It’s all right, Avon. You know I’ll listen to you. I always listen to you, don’t I?”

Avon laughed, a horrible wracking sound. He shook his head slightly.

“Oh Blake, Blake, you never listen to me, you never do. That’s why it all happened, you didn’t listen and then you _left_ , you abandoned us and I tried, I _did_ , I don’t, I don’t know, but I tried and then Cally died and the _Liberator_ was gone and then, then it all, no, don’t make me, I don’t want … you _died_ Blake, I was dying and you were dead and I just wanted to change it, change it all and I woke up _here_ and you’re alive and Gan’s alive, you’re all _alive_ and _we can fix it_.”

Jenna slapped the tranquilizer pad on the back of his neck. Avon jerked and gave a small cry of misery before slumped, loose and limp in Blake’s arms. Blake caught him as best he could, holding him close and looking silently up at his stunned companions.

“He’s mad,” Vila whispered. “He’s gone totally mad. Space sickness, that’s what they call it, isn’t it? He’s got it and he’s gone mad and we’re all probably next … ”

“Madness isn’t catching, Vila,” Gan said, his voice amazingly reasonable given the circumstances.

“He can’t be mad,” Cally said, her voice soft, bewildered. “He was fine yesterday, he was … he was rational. You do not just become mad overnight, it isn’t possible, there are signs, there are … there are markers. I know that he has been suffering fatigue but … ”

“What was he saying about Control?” Jenna asked, staring at Blake with narrowed eyes.

“Let’s get him to the Medical Bay first,” Blake said. “Gan, help me.”

Gan helped him, although Blake knew he could have carried Avon himself. The others followed quietly, uneasy. Blake stared at Avon’s pale, slack face and wondered just what had happened. _How_ it had happened.

It couldn’t be true, could it? 

They laid Avon on one of the beds. Nobody protested when Jenna quietly clipped the restraints into place. Cally moved quietly to the computer, began to type things into it, arranging a scan. Avon remained totally still, his breathing shallow. Blake resisted the sudden urge to take his hand. Avon wouldn’t be able to feel it anyway.

“There’s nothing physically wrong with him,” Cally said quietly. “His adrenaline levels are high but that’s only to be expected. His mind seems intact.”

“What was he saying about Control?” Jenna asked again.

“I was hoping to take us there,” Blake confessed, staring at Avon’s pale face. “Orac has almost found it for us. I am in contact with Kasabi, the leader of a group on Earth, we were going to destroy it together, really bring the Federation to its knees.”

“And when exactly were you going to share this plan with us?” Cally demanded, sounding angry. “Did you tell Avon about it?”

“No! I haven’t told anybody, I meant to talk about it once I’d found where Control was concealed. I made Orac promise not to say anything.”

“I’ll go and fetch him,” Gan said quietly. “We’d better check that he didn’t reveal anything. See if he’s got any ideas.”

He headed out of the room. Blake avoided the accusing stares of his friends and just focused on Avon. Had Orac told him? Or had he overheard Blake planning, reacted badly? No, surely he would simply have come to Blake and argued, his usual tactic. Why pretend? Why think on it until it made him react like _this?_

Gan returned with Orac in his arms, sat the computer gently down on the table. Blake placed the key inside the slot, then put his hands on his hips.

“Did you tell Avon about my plans for finding Earth Control?”

“Of course not! Our agreement was that I should not speak of it to anybody and therefore, I have not.”

“Did he overhear us?”

“I cannot possibly know that. Do not ask ridiculous questions.”

“Orac, Avon came to us this morning behaving very strangely,” Cally said quietly. “He suggested that he has somehow … somehow returned his mind from the future, that he has seen the results of Blake’s search for Control before it happened. Is that possible?”

“That is a fascinating theoretical question. There are no provable instances, yet there are a great many stories about such things. All of them, to my knowledge, are fictional. For me to make any answer, you must wake Avon up and allow me to scan his mind whilst we attempt to gather veracity of his claims. He may, of course, be lying or deluded in some fashion. This may be difficult to verify.”

“Oh, really?” Blake muttered. “I would never have guessed.”

“That is because your intellect is not as great as mine,” Orac said smugly.

Vila gave a small laugh that almost sounded like he might be genuinely amused. Blake smiled at him, then gently leaned over and removed the tranquilizer pad from Avon’s neck.

Avon remained unconscious for a few moments, then slowly, his eyelashes fluttered. He tried to move and then his eyes snapped open.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, please, Blake, I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt anybody, please, please not this … ”

“It’s all right,” Blake said and now he did reach for Avon’s hand. “Avon, calm down, it’s just so you don’t hurt yourself, that’s all … ”

“Speak for yourself!” Vila muttered, not quite quietly enough. Blake expected Avon to make some sharp comeback but instead, Avon closed his eyes and pressed his mouth together, looking pained.

“We know you won’t hurt us on purpose,” Cally said, quiet and soothing. “But you were very distressed, Avon. This is better, just until you’re sure you can control yourself.”

Avon gave a strange, teeth-bared smile. He didn’t open his eyes and Blake suddenly had the horrible idea that Avon might be trying not to cry. He squeezed Avon’s hand as tightly as he dared.

“Avon. How far into the future were you?”

“Four years,” Avon whispered. He took a shuddering breath, obviously trying incredibly hard to sound calm. “Give or take a few months.”

“Can you prove it?” Blake asked, keeping his own voice just as calm. “I need you to prove it, Avon.”

Avon opened his eyes and stared at him. Blake stared back, not sure how to feel. Ought he hope for madness? Or reality? If Avon were telling the truth …

“Zelda!” Avon said suddenly, trying to twist his head so he was looking at Cally. The cry meant nothing to Blake but he saw Cally’s eyes widen in shock. “Your, your clone-sister. She’s still on Auron, she works in the cloning plants, doesn’t she? And you lied about why you couldn’t return, they have a policy of non-interference, which you broke.”

Blake looked at Cally. She was slightly pale, her hands shaking. She gave her head a jerky nod.

“Yes,” she said. “Yes, that is all true.”

“You have a brother,” Avon threw at Jenna, twisting his head to her. “Your mother was killed by the Federation, he and his wife entered the rebellion in revenge. Then you became a smuggler, left your family.”

Jenna nodded slightly. Her eyes were full of distrust. Avon twisted to look at Vila.

“You, when you were fourteen, the prison transport you were on was damaged. They used the forcewall to keep the air in so they could fix it and not need suits.”

His eyes came back to Blake.

“You have an uncle and a cousin on Exbar. Her name … she’s called … ”

He trailed off and a look of weary despair came into his eyes.

“I can’t remember her name.”

“Inga,” Blake said quietly. “Her name is Inga.”

He had never mentioned Inga or Ushton to any of them. To anybody, not for years. Avon couldn’t possibly have known, not from him.

“Hal Mellanby!” Avon said. He sounded desperate now. “He lives on Sarren with his daughter, Dayna, and a foster child, I forget her name, blonde, she was blonde. The scientist Egorian, he lives on Malodaar with a man named Pinder. There’s others, others, I can find, just let me think, please … ”

“Avon, stop,” Blake said. “It’s all right, I believe you, do you hear me? I _believe_ you.”

Avon stared at him for a moment, then visibly relaxed, closing his eyes. His hand trembled under Blake’s and so Blake stroked it. Avon gave a tiny sigh.

“You won’t go to Earth?”

“No,” Blake said. “Avon … where is the real Control? What is Star One?”

Avon flinched. A tremble went through his body and he pressed his lips together. Blake swallowed, trying not to beg for the information. He had to _know_ , he had to find it, they could do it differently this time …

The world suddenly seemed to swell before him, grow bigger, brighter. Avon knew _everything_. Every mistake, every success. He could guide them, they could bring down the Federation, they could really do it!

“Avon?” he said, aware that his voice was harder now. “Avon, where is Control?!”

“Blake, he needs to rest!” Cally’s voice was sharp. She stepped forward and put a tranquilizer pad on Avon’s forehead before Blake or Avon could protest. Avon sank into sleep immediately and Blake managed to stop himself from glaring. 

“You really believe him?” Jenna blurted. She sounded furious.

“Did _you_ ever tell anybody about your family history?” Blake asked her. “I know I didn’t. And how could he know where Ushton and Inga are?”

“He didn’t mention their names,” Jenna said. “You filled in the gaps, Blake. He could have found out any of this with enough research and he’s good with computers. Surely you can’t really think that he actually genuinely travelled in time?”

“I don’t know how it works but it seems true!” Blake said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “Look at all the things he knew! Are you telling me that he’s been researching us just to fake madness?”

“Avon would never pretend to be mad,” Cally said quietly. “He would never allow himself to lose face this way unless he were genuinely disturbed.”

“I think she’s right,” Gan said. “Avon cares so much about how people see him. He would never knowingly invent this, Jenna.”

Jenna shook her head. Blake looked at her and guessed that it wasn’t that Jenna didn’t believe, it was that she didn’t _want_ to believe. He supposed he ought to be more afraid himself but all he could think of was the benefit. They had a weapon, a magnificent, glorious weapon, couldn’t any of them see that?

“I need more proof,” Jenna said firmly. “I’m sorry Blake, I can see you want to believe this but I need more.”

“How about finding one of the people he mentioned?” Vila suggested. He was looking extremely unhappy and twisting his fingers around a lot but he sounded like he was actually thinking about things. “Seeing if they are really there?”

“He could probably have found that out through Orac or any decent bit of computer work!” Jenna snapped. “Face it Blake, Avon can’t prove anything!”

“He can if he knows where Control is!” Blake shouted at her and then felt cross that he’d let himself get angry. “If he knows the location of Federation Control, their heart of operations, wouldn’t that be proof enough? Do you have any idea how long it’s taken me to think that I might have found it? If Avon can give us the real location … you shouldn’t have knocked him out, Cally.”

“He needs rest!” Cally snapped. “Truth or lies, he is seriously disturbed, Blake! He needs rest, he needs time to feel comfortable. And we all need time to think too, Blake. You may see this as some sort of benefit but it is also quite a shock.”

“I know,” Blake said. “I _am_ shocked, Cally. Do you think I’m not shocked?”

“I don’t know,” Cally said. She looked down at Avon’s sleeping face and touched her arm again. “I wonder what happened to him?”

“He said you _died_ ,” Vila said, sounding haunted. “And that Gan died and Blake … didn’t mention me. Maybe I was fine. Or maybe he just didn’t care, maybe nobody cared … ”

“Don’t be silly, Vila,” Blake said, a little impatiently.

“I wonder how you died,” Vila said, hugging himself and staring at Blake far too keenly for Blake’s liking. “I wonder what happened … ”

“Don’t try and ask him now,” Cally said. “In fact, I think we should all leave him to sleep. He will be quite safe in here, the medical computers will alert us if anything goes wrong.”

Blake didn’t want to leave Avon. He wanted to wake him, learn everything Avon had. But he fought the urge. Cally was right anyway, Avon clearly needed rest. They could talk later.

They went to the Flight Deck together. Jenna stood at her pilot seat and looked at Blake.

“Where do you want to go, Blake?”

“I don’t know,” Blake admitted, gnawing on a knuckle as he thought. “Should we go and find one of Avon’s people? It might comfort him to feel that we’re looking into what he’s saying, taking it seriously.”

“He already knows _you’re_ taking it seriously,” Jenna said but there was no real heat in her voice. She was looking tired, uneasy and Blake couldn’t blame her. He moved to her side, laid his hand gently on her shoulder and was relieved when she smiled at him, even if it was a small, tired smile.

“I know it’s hard to believe,” he said. “I’m finding it hard to believe it myself. But although I can believe that Avon’s been looking us up and researching us, I can’t believe that he’d break like this unless there was something very serious.”

“Blake, people sometimes just break,” Jenna said quietly. “I know it’s hard to accept but perhaps the stress just … took him. I’ve seen people on long flights lose their grip on reality. Sometimes, all it takes is one bad dream.”

Blake bit his knuckle again. Was it possible? Was Avon spilling out a mixture of fact and fantasy? Had he slipped into madness?

No. No, when Avon had gone to bed last night, he’d been _fine_. He’d been the same as he always had been since they’d taken the _Liberator_. There would have been something, _something_ to suggest this sudden madness.

“Do you know the name Hal Mellanby?” he asked. When Jenna shook her head, Blake continued. “I heard of him, back on Earth. He fought a rebellion of his own and fled when it went wrong. I faintly knew he had a daughter but nothing about a foster child – or even that he was still alive.”

“Could Avon had contacted him?” Jenna asked.

Blake shrugged. Moving over to Orac, he re-inserted the key.

“Give me everything you have about the current whereabouts of Hal Mellanby.”

Orac had nothing at all on the current whereabouts of Hal Mellanby. He grumpily informed Blake that there was no possible way of finding this out without a long search that would be extremely complex. Blake looked at Jenna, trying not to look smug.

“It doesn’t necessarily prove anything, Blake.”

“Well then, let’s go to Sarren,” Blake said. “Let’s talk to Hal Mellanby. Find out if he’s ever spoken to Avon. Find out if there’s any way that Avon could ever have contacted him. Find out if he has a foster daughter. Find out anything that we can.”

He looked around at the crew, trying to gage their reactions. Jenna was frowning, her face crunched with suspicion. Cally looked uncertain, although she was trying to smooth her face to blandness, a trick she often used when she wasn’t sure what she wanted and didn’t want them to know. Vila looked anxious and fidgety but he nodded when Blake met his eyes, either because he genuinely wanted to know or simply because he didn’t want to rock the boat. Gan looked bleak but he nodded his head too.

“Setting course for Sarren,” Jenna said quietly. “It will take us at least a week, perhaps longer, if we run into any Federation ships.”

“Then I’m going to go and untie Avon,” Blake said. “We can’t leave him tied up, it’s not fair.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Vila blurted out. “I mean, is he really safe? Really? He’s all … he’s not … ”

“He’s not all there,” Jenna supplied. It was unusual to see them on the same side. Blake wasn’t too sure that he liked it very much. 

“Not all there or not, I am _not_ keeping him restrained in the medical bay!” he said coolly. “If he isn’t mad now, he’d be mad pretty shortly, don’t you think?”

“Blake, he _is_ mad now!” Jenna said. “Don’t you understand that? Didn’t you listen to him?!”

“Disturbed,” Blake said quietly. “Disturbed, not mad. I know what it’s like, Jenna. When I watched the Federation slaughter innocent people and my memories began to return, it was the most terrifying thing that had ever happened to me. My mind was bleeding knowledge and I didn’t understand it. I’m sure to anybody who didn’t understand, I would have sounded insane. Avon must feel like that. I’m going to prove to him that he’s still one of us, that we still trust him.”

“Speak for yourself,” Vila mumbled but there was no aggression there. Jenna scowled but said nothing. Blake wondered why she was so unsympathetic. She wasn’t very fond of Avon but there had always been respect between them. Was it fear? He would have to try and talk to her later, see if he could reason with her more.

Perhaps it was simply fear that if Avon _was_ mad, they might all follow.

“I’m going to wake him up,” he said and got up. 

_Be careful, Blake_. Cally’s mental voice was quiet but clear. _The line between distress and madness can be thin. Avon may be ashamed of his outbursts. He may desire to save face. Please take care._

He nodded to her and left the flight deck, walking purposefully to the Medical Bay. Avon still lay where they had left him, eyes closed, breathing deep. Blake wondered if he had slipped into a normal sleep or if he was simply heavily tranquilized. Well, he would find out in a moment.

He gently peeled the tranquilizer pad from Avon’s forehead and sat back. After a moment, Avon’s eyes were opening and he was staring at Blake again with oddly hunted eyes.

“Where are the others?”

“The flight deck,” Blake said. “I’ve come down to release you.”

Avon closed his eyes again for a moment. Quickly, Blake unfastened both of the restraints and held out a hand in case Avon was stiff and needed helping up. Avon rejected the hand. He levered himself up slowly, looked down at his feet and then stood up. Blake watched him, not quite sure what to say. Avon didn’t move for a moment, just stood there, stretching his arms.

“They feel different,” he murmured, almost to himself. “ _I_ feel different.”

“Did four years change so much?” Blake asked and regretted it immediately. Avon was looking at him and the look was pure pain.

“Yes,” he said simply.

“I’m sorry,” Blake said awkwardly. 

“Don’t be,” Avon murmured. “I can imagine this is … strange for you. I can’t … it’s been so long, I can’t remember how I was … then. Or now, I suppose. Not like this, I am sure.”

“It’s all right,” Blake said. Avon’s smile was sardonic but Blake found it relaxed. It was the way Avon had smiled at him yesterday when he had asked about future plans and Blake had tried to put him off. It was what he was used to from Avon. He smiled back but Avon’s expression changed immediately to one of bitter sadness.

“So young,” he said. “You look so young … ”

“Four years made such a difference to me?” Blake said. Avon shuddered.

“Oh yes. Yes, Blake, four years made all the difference.”

Blake thought about Avon’s frantic rantings earlier and tried not to shiver himself.

“You said that I died.”

Avon jerked as though he’d been touched with an electric wire. He took a step back, as though wanting to distance himself from Blake’s words. The little colour that had come to his face drained away.

“It’s all right,” Blake said quickly. “I don’t need to know, Avon, not yet anyway. We can change it.”

“Can we?” Avon whispered. “Do you know anything about time travel, Blake?”

“Not really,” Blake admitted.

“It’s all theoretical, of course – until now,” Avon said, sounding a little dreamy. “If this is real. Perhaps this is madness, perhaps I have snapped and broken and this is a delirium but as I cannot possibly know, I feel I should live it as though it is reality, as though this has happened and as though it matters.”

“It matters,” Blake said quietly. “Oh, it matters, Avon.”

Avon looked at him, his eyes suddenly sharp and cold. Blake had seen the look hundreds of times before but it looked different now. It looked harsher, colder, a different man looking out of Avon’s eyes. Blake wondered how long it would take to get used to that. He hoped it didn’t show on his face.

“Why does it matter, Blake?” Avon asked. “Why does it matter so much?”

“Because we can do it _better!_ ” Blake said, unable to keep the passion from his voice. “Avon, you can tell me everything that happened in the past four years, every success, every failure! We can make the successes better, we can prevent the failures! We can bring the Federation down, you and I, together!”

Avon began to laugh. It was a horrible sound, devoid of all humour and happiness. It was the laugh of a man who had looked into hell. Blake stared at him, horrified.

“Stop it! _Stop it!_ ”

He grabbed Avon’s shoulders, shook him hard. Avon rocked under his hands, still laughing. After a moment, Blake slapped him, not hard this time, but sharply. Avon’s head snapped to the side and he stopped making the terrible noise. Blake stared at him, still gripping his shoulders.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Oh Blake, Blake, you don’t see, you never _see!_ ” Avon said, his voice still choked with that awful, unreal laughter. “You think you can use me, you’ve always thought you could use me and now, now, it’s just worse but you still don’t understand!”

“Then explain it to me,” Blake said, trying to keep himself calm. “Avon, you have to keep explaining things.”

“But you never _listen_ , you hear what you want to hear and that’s all!”

“No, Avon, I’ll listen. I promise. Just tell me, just talk,” Blake coaxed. He knew he was speaking as though Avon was a child but he half-felt as though he were talking to a child. He waited for Avon to say something vicious but instead, Avon just stared at him, a look of weary despair in his eyes. He suddenly leaned forward and rested his head against Blake’s shoulder. Blake managed not to twitch. He wasn’t used to Avon touching him like this. Had they become more tactile in those four years? He would have to get used to it.

“Have you heard of the butterfly effect, Blake?” Avon’s voice was muffled but distinct enough.

“No.”

“It is an old mathematical concept,” Avon said, still resting against Blake’s shoulder. “A butterfly flaps its wings in one place and it changes the weather in another country. It is often linked to time travel narrative – that a time traveller might change one tiny thing and cause a hurricane through time. Everything is connected, one alteration … and the consequences could be good or bad.”

“I see,” Blake said, although he didn’t exactly. Oh, it was obvious what Avon was _talking_ about but he couldn’t quite connect with it. Yes, obviously things would change but they would be good changes, he was sure of that. Why did Avon have to be so stubborn, why was he so afraid?

“No, you don’t,” Avon whispered. His hands came up to grip Blake’s shirt, squeezing handfuls of it. “Oh Blake, no you don’t. You don’t know what’s coming, you don’t know … I have to make all these decisions, these choices and I don’t know what will happen! Will I save people? Or condemn them? I can save everyone on Saurian but what will that do to the universe? How can I know? Should I go and kill Shrinker? Let Anna do as she pleases on Earth? I can kill Servalan now but what will rise up to take her place? Is it better the devil we know? Or not?”

“You think you could just leave it?” Blake asked quietly. “You could really just ignore the people who we could help just in case something worse _might_ happen?”

“I don’t _know!_ ” Avon said, sounding agonised. He finally looked up, meeting Blake’s eyes again. “I can’t … oh Blake, I can’t … please … ”

“It’s all right,” Blake said. Without thinking about it, he pulled Avon closer, began to stroke his back. “It’s all right, Avon. You’re not alone. I’m going to help you. We’ll work it out together, you and me. It’s all right … ”

Avon trembled against him, his breathing choked. Blake continued to stroke his back, feeling a bit of a fool. He wondered what had happened on Saurian. He decided not to ask, not now. There would be time enough for all of this later. Right now, he just needed to comfort Avon, reassure him. Avon would be no use to anybody if he broke.

“Avon, why don’t you go and lie down in your cabin for a while? You could probably use the rest. We’re going to Sarren, nothing much should happen from now until then.”

Avon shuddered.

“You left us there,” he murmured, more to himself than to Blake. “It all changed, it all … Blake, you promised, you did … ”

“And I shall keep that promise,” Blake said firmly, reaching up and catching turning Avon’s face up so they were looking at each other. “Do you understand, Avon? I won’t leave you.”

Avon looked at him for a moment, his expression inscrutable. Then he gave a soft sigh and suddenly leaned up and kissed Blake on the lips.

The gesture shocked Blake. Avon was kissing him, Avon was _kissing_ him. Not just a gentle kiss either, it was passionate, needy, his tongue scraping against Blake’s lower lip, his hands coming up to knot in Blake’s hair. Had the future him and Avon been like this? Was that one of the reasons that Avon was so distressed?

He ought to do something. He ought to stop this. He was thinking too much and letting Avon kiss him and touch him and now Avon was pressing their bodies together, moving his hips against Blake’s and Blake could feel Avon’s erection and to his shock, he realised he had one of his own, he was responding to Avon’s need, that had to be it, he hadn’t felt anything like this for so long …

“Blake … ”

Was that really Avon’s voice, rasping like that? And was it really Blake kissing him back, pulling him closer now without even meaning to? He felt so hot, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, it was just him and Avon and Avon kissing him and Avon reaching down to undo his belt …

“Avon,” he gasped. “Avon, stop!”

Avon stopped. More than that, he jerked back, as though Blake had burned him. His eyes were wide and he was beginning to tremble again.

“Avon, don’t,” Blake said quickly. “I don’t … I wasn’t expecting this, I wasn’t … was this … did you … did we …?”

He was stumbling, he felt a fool. Avon looked away.

“No. I didn’t … I saw you … I wanted it different. This time, I wanted … wanted it different.”

“All right,” Blake said. “That’s all right, Avon.”

It was difficult to know what to say. He was conscious that his hair was a mess, that he was still sweaty and probably flushed and that Avon had done a good job at getting his belt unfastened. Avon looked terribly rumpled and suddenly gaunt with exhaustion. 

“Avon, you need to lie down. Come on, come to your cabin. You have to rest.”

“Yes,” Avon agreed. It was so strange seeing him docile and Blake didn’t think that he liked it very much. He wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge. Right now, touching Avon might make everything far more complicated. He needed to think.

But he needed to reassure Avon too.

“I didn’t mind it, Avon,” he said, hoping he sounded gentle and not patronising. “It was … good.”

Avon looked at him and for a moment, Blake wasn’t sure he liked what he saw there. It was calculating, almost vicious. It was very Avon – but it was also rather unnerving. Avon was thinking something and Blake didn’t know what it was. Was he thinking that Blake was lying? Or that Blake was telling the truth? Was he planning on using it somehow? 

Would this be the first change that would save his life?

Or a change that might damn him?

“Good,” Avon said at last, breaking the silence. “Yes. It was good.”

He left the Medical Bay, closing the door behind him. Blake sat down on the couch with a thump, the day suddenly catching up with him. His head was aching. He’d woken up so _sure_ and now … everything seemed to have changed, reshuffled, altered almost without recognition.

Was he making a terrible, terrible mistake?

He did believe Avon, he believed him completely. He wasn’t sure what he felt about it all. Oh, the thrill was still there, the knowledge that Avon had so much useable knowledge … but Avon’s words had pierced the bubble, cooled the fire somewhat. Yes, Avon was right. What they did now would have such an effect, ripples throughout the galaxy that would change everything ...

But he’d always wanted that. He’d always aimed for that, to change everything. He had never been able to know the results of his actions – no person ever could. This way, they could avoid some deaths, some errors. Surely, if they could just save one person, one innocent person from an unnecessary death, wouldn’t that make it all worthwhile?

And if they could bring down the Federation, if they could finally crush it, destroy it …

The fire was back, burning and blazing inside him. They would go to Sarren. They would prove to the others that Avon was telling the truth. And then …

They would win.

 _Blake_ would win.

He calmly readjusted his clothes, filled with purpose. As long as the others could stay with him, it would be all right. 

Everything would be all right.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the b7friday prompt "Time and Space"


End file.
